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Hindi ko pa naisasarado ang p***o sa likod ko nang may malakas na puwersang sumalubong sa pisngi ko.
Napapikit ako habang kusang napaling ang ulo ko sa lakas ng sampal. Umalingawngaw ang matinis na ugong sa loob ng tainga ko, kasabay ng mainit na hapdi na mabilis na kumalat mula sa pisngi ko hanggang sa panga. Parang may apoy na dahan-dahang sinusunog ang balat ko. Napahawak ako roon bago dahan-dahang tumingala. Galit na galit ang mukha ni Mama. Hindi na bago ang ekspresyong iyon. Sa loob ng isang taon, halos iyon na lang ang mukha niyang nakikita ko tuwing umuuwi ako. Galit. Pandidiri. Pagkamuhi. Parang bawat segundo ng paghinga ko ay isang personal na insulto sa kaniya. "Wala ka nang ginawang maganda sa buhay ko!" sigaw niya, nanginginig pa ang boses sa sobrang galit. Hindi ko pa man nabubuksan ang bibig ko ay sinabunutan na niya ako. Napapikit ako habang mariing hinahatak pababa ang buhok ko. Sumunod ang katawan ko sa puwersa hanggang sa bumagsak ako sa malamig na tiles. Kumalat ang matalim na sakit sa likod ko. Hindi na ako nagtangkang tumayo. Instinct na lang ang gumalaw sa katawan ko. I curled into myself, wrapping my arms around my head and ribs, protecting the parts of me that usually suffered the worst. Natutunan ko na iyon. Kapag hindi ako lumaban, mas mabilis silang mapapagod. Kapag tinakpan ko ang ulo ko, mas maliit ang posibilidad na mawalan ako ng malay. Kapag naingatan ko ang tagiliran ko, baka makapasok pa ako sa trabaho bukas. Nakakatawa. Hindi ko na iniisip kung paano iiwas sa pananakit. Ang iniisip ko na lang ay kung paano mababawasan ang magiging pinsala. "'Pati asawa ni Imelda nagawa mong landiin!" sigaw niya bago muling dumapo ang paa niya sa tagiliran ko. Napapikit ako nang kumirot ang bawat laman-loob ko. "Puro kahihiyan ang dala mo sa buhay ko! Malandi kang katulad ng ama mo!" Hindi ako sumagot. Ano pa bang silbi? Hindi naman siya naghihintay ng paliwanag. Naghahanap lang siya ng taong pagbubuhusan ng galit. "Tsk, tsk." Napalingon ako sa lalaking nakaupo sa sofa. Nobyo ni Mama. Nakahilig lang siya habang umiinom ng alak diretso sa bote, waring nanonood lang ng isang palabas na paulit-ulit na niyang napanood. Nang magtagpo ang mga mata namin, ngumisi siya. Hindi ngiting may awa. Kundi ngiting kuntento. Parang natutuwa siyang makita akong nasa ganoong kalagayan. May kung anong malamig na gumapang sa sikmura ko. Hindi dahil natatakot ako sa kaniya. Kundi dahil kahit matapos ang lahat ng panahong ito, hindi ko pa rin maintindihan kung paano nagiging napakadali para sa ibang tao ang panoorin ang kapwa nila na masaktan. Dahil sa sinabi ni Mama, pilit akong umupo kahit nanginginig ang mga braso ko. Masakit ang bawat galaw. Pakiramdam ko ay may mabibigat na bato sa buong katawan ko. Pero kailangan kong magsalita. Kailangan kong ipaliwanag. "Ma—" "Enough." Bago pa man ako makadagdag ng isang salita, bumaba si Sofia mula sa ikalawang palapag. Bitbit niya ang laptop niya. Isang click lang. Lumabas sa screen ang litrato. _"Ryn, sabihan mo lang ako kung may problema ka, ah? Nandito lang ako lagi."_ Nakuhanan ang eksaktong sandaling ipinatong ni Mang Dado ang kamay niya sa likod ko. Hindi nakunan ang paglayo ko. Hindi nakunan ang pangingilabot na gumapang sa balat ko. Hindi nakunan ang pagbilis ng tibok ng puso ko. Hindi rin nakunan ang sandaling halos tumakbo na ako pauwi para lang makalayo sa kaniya. Isang litrato lang. At sapat na iyon para hatulan ako. "Tingin mo, naniniwala pa kami sa'yo?" sigaw ni Mama habang nanlilisik ang mga mata niya. "Save it, Ryn. Sa dami ng lalaking na-involve sa'yo? Baka ikaw pa ang lumalapit sa kanila! Mana ka talaga sa ama mong walang hiya!" Yumuko ako at mahina akong natawa. A dry, broken sound escaped my lips, so quiet it was almost swallowed by the silence. Hindi iyon tawa ng taong natatawa. Tawa iyon ng taong pagod nang umasa na may makikinig pa sa kaniya. The sting on my cheek throbbed beneath my skin, warm and relentless, while the sharp pull on my scalp still burned from where my mother had dragged me across the floor. Every bruise beneath my clothes screamed every time I breathed, every kick leaving behind a dull ache that pulsed with my heartbeat. My body hurt. But not nearly as much as my chest. God... Why did it still hurt? After a year of this... bakit hindi pa rin ako nasasanay? I already knew how this would end the second she looked at me. I knew my side would never matter. I knew Sofia only had to cry, only had to point a finger, and I would become the villain before I could even open my mouth. So why... Why does my heart still break every single time? My throat tightened painfully. I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell her that Mang Dado was the one who made my skin crawl. That every time his hand brushed against my back, I wanted to disappear. That I ran because I was scared—not because I was guilty. But what was the point? She wasn't looking at me. She was looking at someone she had already decided to hate. The tears blurred my vision until the cold floor beneath me became nothing more than shifting shadows. I stared at them anyway, afraid that if I looked up and met my mother's eyes again, I would see the same thing I had been seeing for the past year. Disgust. Disappointment. Hatred. Not once... Not even once... Did she look at me like I was her daughter. That realization settled inside me like broken glass, sinking deeper every time I inhaled. It never healed. Every accusation only pushed the shards further into my heart until loving my own mother became something that hurt more than all the bruises blooming across my body. I swallowed hard. _Don't cry. Please... Don't let them see you cry. They'll only think you're pretending again._ Iniwan nila akong may panibagong mga sugat at pasa sa sala. Tahimik akong bumangon kahit tila bawat galaw ay may kapalit na kirot. Naninigas ang likod ko, kumikirot ang tagiliran ko, at bawat hakbang ay parang may humihila sa mga pasa kong hindi pa tuluyang naghihilom. Hindi ko na maalala kung pang-ilang beses na itong nangyari. Tumayo ako nang dahan-dahan at pilit na itinuwid ang katawan ko, kahit parang nagpoprotesta ang bawat kalamnan ko. Walang saysay ang manatili pa roon. Wala namang lalapit para tulungan ako. Wala ring magtatanong kung kaya ko pa ba. Pagpasok ko sa maliit kong kwarto, agad kong ini-lock ang p***o bago tuluyang sumalampak sa sahig. Niyakap ko ang mga tuhod ko at isinandal ang ulo ko rito, pilit pinapakalma ang paghinga kong nanginginig pa rin. Ito na ang naging mundo ko. Apat na dingding. Isang kandadong ako lang ang nakakakita ng silbi. At isang katahimikang mas ligtas kaysa sa mga taong nasa labas ng pintong iyon. Mahigit isang taon na. Halos araw-araw. Kapag hindi nila ako sinasaktan, ikinukulong nila ako sa kwartong ito. Kapag hindi naman nila ako ikinukulong, hahanap sila ng panibagong dahilan para iparamdam na wala akong karapatang tawaging tahanan ang bahay na ito. Unti-unti kong ipinikit ang mga mata. Minsan naiisip ko kung may bahagi pa ba ng sarili kong hindi pa nila nasisira. Pero sa tuwing sisilip ang tanong na iyon sa isip ko, agad ko rin itong itinutulak palayo. Dahil alam kong bukas... Pagbukas ko ulit ng pintong ito... Magsisimula na naman ang panibagong araw na kailangan ko lang tiisin.I spread the documents across my bed, placing the photograph beside the file it had been hidden in.The room was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of paper as I moved one document after another. I had intended to finish organizing everything before taking a shower, but the discovery had completely changed my plans.I couldn't stop looking at the photograph.My father stood in the backyard of our old house, his expression difficult to make out because of the photograph's age. Beside him was Hiraya, her face scratched and torn beyond recognition.I knew it was her.The dress, the shape of her body, and the way she stood were familiar enough that I couldn't convince myself otherwise.But the date written on the back was what bothered me most.I picked up the file again, checking its label before opening it to the page I had found earlier.It was a departure record for my father's business trip.According to the document, his flight had departed two days before the date written on t
I had ordered a storage box online several days ago, intending to keep my private and important documents somewhere safer than the scattered folders in my room. It was supposed to arrive tomorrow, but when I received the notification that it had been delivered, I couldn't contain my excitement.I didn't even bother waiting for Lucien.The package wasn't particularly heavy, and I could carry it myself without much difficulty. After bringing it into my room, I carefully removed the packaging, inspecting the storage box from every angle to make sure nothing had been damaged during delivery.It was exactly what I wanted.The compartments were spacious enough to accommodate my documents, and the lid fitted securely over the top. I had specifically chosen a design that could slide beneath my bed, keeping everything out of sight without taking up additional space in the room.Before putting it away, however, I decided to clean my room first.I changed the bedsheets, wiped the furniture, orga
After Sylvia Valerius left our table, Ryn found herself glancing toward the direction the older woman had disappeared. She couldn't quite explain what she was feeling.There had been nothing unpleasant about their brief encounter. Sylvia had been gracious, her smile warm, and her manner perfectly composed. She hadn't said anything that might have made Ryn uncomfortable, nor had she asked questions that crossed any boundaries.If anything, the woman had been remarkably welcoming.And yet, something about her presence had lingered.It was an unfamiliar sensation, a quiet tug somewhere beneath Ryn's ribs that she couldn't connect to any particular word or memory. She had met influential people before, especially during the years when her father still attended social gatherings with her. She knew how to behave around people whose names carried weight, how to offer a polite smile and hold a conversation without appearing intimidated.Sylvia Valerius should have been no different.But she w
I was reviewing my notes for the day when I received Lucien’s message.I'm here.I gathered my things, checked that I hadn't left anything behind, and made my way out of the building. Several students were lingering near the entrance, some talking among themselves while others waited for their companions.Then I saw him.Lucien stood beside his car, dressed in casual. His expression was composed, his posture relaxed, and his presence alone seemed enough to draw people's attention without him having to do anything. His gaze found me almost immediately."Finished?" he asked when I approached.I nodded. "Yes. Have you been waiting long?""Not particularly."He reached for the bag hanging from my shoulder, taking it from me before opening the passenger door.It was such a simple gesture that I barely thought about it anymore. I handed him my bag without hesitation, settled into the seat, and thanked him as he closed the door.There was no dramatic greeting, no unnecessary display of affec
The moment I stepped into Valtoré University, I knew people would eventually recognize me. It was inevitable, considering the surname I carried through my marriage.Some students already knew me as Lucien Ashford’s wife. Others had only heard rumors, piecing together fragments of information about the woman who had suddenly returned to the university after a year-long absence.I caught snippets of their conversations whenever I passed them in the corridors.“She’s the one married to Lucien Ashford, right?”“I heard she only got in because of him.”“Of course. Do you think someone like her could enter Valtoré without connections?”I kept walking.There was no point correcting every assumption. If people wanted to think I was just lucky, hiding behind my husband’s name — let them. I had better things to do than defend myself to strangers.I didn’t return to Valtoré to prove I deserved Lucien’s name. I came back to finish what I started long ago. And this time, I would see it through.Ou
Sofia knew a convincing story was all she needed. What better tale than casting Ryn as a thief? By morning, word spread — she claimed her scholarship was given to Ryn. She spoke of confusion and missing papers, painting herself the victim, but never admitted her name was never in the records.“Isipin mo na lang,” she told a neighbor who had stopped by their house. “Gagawin sa iyo iyan ng sarili mong pamilya. Alam ni Ryn kung gaano ko gustong makapag-aral doon, pero inagaw pa rin niya ang scholarship ko.”The neighbor listened with clear sympathy, which Sofia took as encouragement. By the end of their talk, she knew her story was working. If Ryn wanted peace as Lucien Ashford's wife, Sofia would make sure she had none. She couldn't match Ryn's status, but she could ruin her name. That was exactly what she planned — until she never expected Hiraya would hear it too.That afternoon, someone mentioned Sofia's scholarship story outside their home. Hiraya listened casually — until Ryn's nam







